My location for the degree mark is the asterix with the option and
shift key down°°°°°°°°°°°. I think it may change depending on which
font you are using...but I'm satisfied that I rememberd it at all.
When I forget it takes a long long time to find it again.
-jc
On Sunday, March 16, 2003, at 06:56 AM, Leland Torrence wrote:
> Now there's the ][<en I know. You must ramble more often.
> And how do you find the long and short marks on the computer key
> board? Oh, and while we're at it, where is the little circle for
> degrees?
> Thanks for reminding me of Vachel Lindsey. I enjoyed a good
> read this morning after reading your post. My father used to read him
> aloud to us but then he sailed from Byzantium and got mired in his own
> Prufrock.
> Terra Dactyl
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: "Let us not speak foul in folly!" - ][<en Phollit
> [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On Behalf Of Ken
> Follett
> Sent: Saturday, March 15, 2003 7:07 PM
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Re: Windham College
>
>
> John,
>
> I'm not disappointed with either of our outcomes. Though the other
> night when I woke up suddenly at 2:25 AM with a start dreaming that
> loading the shotgun in the closet and blowing my head off might be
> beneficial to the family... mind you, this is not catastrophic
> suicidal but a measure of personal engagement with the outcome of not
> wanting to let my friends or family down... the stress caused me to
> pause long enough to wonder what the f*ck this is all about! Christ,
> John, ask Jim Hicks if I am not suffering from am unshakeable belief
> that I am responsible for the well being of the entire universe.
>
> Always willing to assist in the development of good character.
>
> Yeah. I sat directly across from Allen at table for a lunch at the
> Rockland County Community College and had a pleasant chat with his
> humbleness for close to an hour before he went on to his reading.
> Meeting him was one of the goals of my youth. He was wearing a suit
> and tie and he was not what I had expected. Prior to that I had seen
> him performing at an anti-war rally in Washington. Meeting him was a
> turning point in my de-mythologizing of the hero. It was also when I
> found out that young muscular stonemasonry bucks eating lunch with
> famous old poets would attract ditzy female poets with large
> gazoongas. Though I enjoy his early work, particularly Howl and
> Kaddish, his later work I feel got a bit flaccid and he was running on
> fumes. He wrote a poem about a green terra cotta building in Manhattan
> that I recall was very moving... Sharpshooter will know the building.
> Ginsberg remains a character that I am curious about, the full extent
> of his career and how much of a pure businessman he was about
> promoting his group, the beats. He was damned sharp about business and
> promotion. He was still busy promoting the beats when I met him. I was
> tagging on the heals of a lesser known beat, Charlie Plymell, an old
> friend of his. Plymell turned out to be a manic-depressive coke head
> with all sorts of emotional and anger control problems. Charlie's wife
> Pamela was the daughter of Sylvia Beach, a publisher of James Joyce.
> Sylvia ran around with a French guy named Claude Peleu (sp) Washburn
> who was a real whacka-do. I also met and spent some time with Ray
> Bremser who at that point was totally strung out and near the end of
> his life. It was not long before we could not stomach Charlie --
> particularly after he decided that I was the Ken Follett that had just
> got a $35,000 advance on my first novel and that I was not sharing --
> and we split that scene. The fact that Ginzberg died is more
> significant to me than the death of Mr. Rogers. Anyone that would piss
> on the desk of a dean at Columbia, apocryphal or not, has got my
> interest. Where is our Ginsberg now? The man legitimized the left and
> most certainly poetisized politics. I regret though that I did not ask
> him about his meeting with Ezra Pound. And there is one thing that
> sticks in my mind which is Ginsberg talking about losing ourselves to
> the point that we not only relenquish our belongings,like a
> transitorized Marcus Aurelieus, but that we may even approach the
> consciousness of losing our name. I've been out to look toward that
> place of silence and losing name and feel that without going there
> that we will never quite be whole with ourselves. Sort of akin to the
> strategy that Zen poetics -- snap bang --
>
> My favorite encounter with a famous poet was going to a reading of
> Robert Creeley in Buffalo. The reading was at a small coffee & new-age
> donut shop kind of place with mint tea and incense so we all sat on
> wooden folding chairs and it was real close. Early in the afternoon on
> a Saturday. I like to sit up front. Creeley was late, real late. We
> had driven a long long way to see him. He showed up drunk and brought
> his own six of beer. He proceeded to wobble around in his chair and
> mumble and curse at us, pop his cans and drink beer. Finally I told
> him that if he could not give us any poetry at least he could share
> his f*ckin beer. He was not in a mood to share and we left. As far as
> I can tell the guy has written one really good poem. He should be
> happy.
>
> My disappointment was when I did not get to actually see Borges. He
> was speaking at NYU and I drove into town from Westchester after
> working all day. DUe to circumstances beyond my ambition we ended up
> spending too much time in a friggin pizza parlor and by the time our
> friend got us to the gig we had to stand outside and listen to Borges
> over an intercom.
>
> Today and yesterday my favorite poet is Vachel Lindsey.
>
> Tell Patrick that if he wants to meet someone famous that he should
> listen to you about getting an education... and when the time is right
> you can tell him that all you got to do is have the b*lls to say,
> Hello, how are you? Nice weather, you know." Problem we got here these
> days with industrialized celebrity is that the famous people to meet
> are usually very shallow. Who wants to really meet Donald Trump or
> Michael Jackson?
>
> ][<en
> N‹^®h§jש¹êâ•êkzÇ«½«b¢zkjÛeŠxš‰à¥©ljwm…
> ë§r‡ßy碻hr§ì¨º»¶Ø§‚È(¶ˆm¶Ÿÿ™§¥²ÚèšËc¢ìyÛ¿j·!Š÷¬ý»¥•©šžF©Šx^iÛ!
>
> --
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>
--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
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